Album Review: Logic - Confessions of a Dangerous Mind
For as many varied projects as Logic has released in the past couple years, from boom-bap throwbacks to trap mixtapes to abhorrent pop rap tripe, nothing has felt as contrived and utterly at odds with itself as his newest effort, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind. One of the most frustrating aspects of Logic's recent attitude towards hip-hop has been his constant hypocrisy of dismissing trap production and lyrical themes on one project and then adopting them himself on another work. Here, however, this ignorant conflict comes to a ridiculous head as he denounces trap on one track and then shamelessly imitates it on the next. Homicide has him bemoaning the genre's emphasis on material wealth ("I got bitches I got hoes, I got rare designer clothes/No, we ain't fuckin' with that") only to proceed to do the exact same thing himself less than ten minutes later on Out of Sight ("Fifty thousand on my wrist, Red Octobers on my feet") and on a number of other songs throughout.
One could hardly conceive of a more blatantly arrogant flaunting of wealth than Icy featuring Gucci Mane, which pairs nonsensical attempts at wit ("You know I got the C-notes like I'm Eilish, I'm Billie") with bars that are as questionable morally as they are lyrically, most notably "I got bitches to fuck, let me see your ID". It's clear that despite all his posturing, however, Logic still conceives of himself as speaking truth to power, idolizing the same kind of contrarian positivity present in Kanye West's recent tumble into insanity. Logic himself has gone from hesitantly calling out Kanye's heel turn to exonerating him and even glorifying his mental illness on the aptly named Pardon My Ego: "I ain't bipolar, Kanye make me wish I was/'Cause that level of genius the meanest", a line so awful and problematic that it would stand out on any other project as the worst bar present, yet here it may not even crack the top five.
The most alienating aspect of Logic's music for most rap fans is not his skin colour or any lack of technical ability, but his recent devotion to spreading the message of 'love and positivity' with his music, at the expense of any actual substance or interesting narrative. Having G-Eazy and Will Smith on your rap album already eliminates any remaining shreds of credibility, but the latter's feature on Don't Be Afraid to Be Different is about as out-of-touch as a celebrity appearance can get, complete with a censored 'fuck' and a Fortnite reference. At least Will Smith is rich enough that he can afford to not care about his reputation; Logic's endless repetition of the song's cheesy title is incredibly annoying, though his unintentionally telling utterance of "I don't give a damn 'bout lyrics" demonstrates better than anything else here his total lack of self-awareness.
Another more recent Logic development is his obsession with, and later mockery of, his biracial status, a theme needlessly omnipresent on 2017's Everybody and subsequently laughed about to the point where Logic himself pokes fun at it occasionally. Cocaine takes it to an uncomfortable new level, hinting at his desire to embrace the oppressed half of his heritage with a multitude of lines like "They want more blacks to sing the blues" and "Never had a foundation/White man split up all my people on the plantation". As horrid as this and many other tracks are, however, clickbait may very well be the worst song Logic has ever made, or at least the most ignorant. In between a mindless hook as repetitive as it is uninteresting, the rapper fits in both a preachy damnation of social media and an attempt to disprove previous accusations of homophobia that backfires horrendously. Not that Logic is necessarily a hateful bigot, but him declaring that he will suck dick to prove he's not homophobic is befuddling, to say the least.
Ever since Logic's newfound obsession with inconsequential positivity began to take over the message of his music, the rapper's standing among genre purists has continued to decline until all but the most devoted fans were forced to admit the steep decline in his music's quality. But for all the embarrassing moments prior, his technical skills combined with the occasional compelling single have kept his reputation as a talented artist at least somewhat afloat. On Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, not only is that rapping ability painfully absent, but in its stead Logic packs the record from front to back with some of his most unlistenable material yet. The strain of putting together four projects in two years may have contributed to this abhorrent turn for the irritating, but the utter dearth of merit, appeal, or even common sense on this project is inexcusable. It is clear to many that Logic should consider taking a break before working on his next project, though given how terrible his past few projects have been, perhaps it would be more beneficial for everyone if he simply never released anything ever again.
1.5/10
Favourite Tracks: no